Fears of split in gay community amid row over Glasgow’s one-stop shop - Herald Scotland News Politics
Fears of split in gay community amid row over Glasgow’s one-stop shop
Two of Glasgow’s leading gay organisations are opposed to the council’s recommendations
Exclusive, by Gerry Braiden
0 commentsPublished on 30 Oct 2009
Glasgow’s gay community faces a damaging schism following attempts by the city council to hand a popular service to an organisation headed by one of its own senior councillors.
Campaigners and opposition parties have rounded on the proposal that the recently bankrupt Glasgow LGBT Centre, a one-stop shop for the city’s lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender community, be taken over by a group called Castro, headed by Councillor Ruth Black, instead of the team behind the Glasgay festival.
Glasgay is said to be furious that Ms Black, who will declare an interest at a meeting today, is also the council’s deputy executive member for equality – a role that could have allowed her access to the Glasgay bid, submitted six months ago. She was previously manager of the LGBT Centre, although left before it closed earlier this year amid rancour and accusations, as well as debts of more than £300,000.
Glasgay claims it has been successful for almost 20 years yet the council wants to give the running of the LGBT centre to an organisation not yet established and with no management, governance or staff arrangements, as well as a direct connection with the previous regime.
Letters have been circulated to all members of the council’s executive by the director of Pride Glasgow, another gay rights organisation, calling on them to reject the council’s recommendations.
The council’s SNP and LibDem groups will also call on the committee to postpone making a decision until bids are resubmitted, with some opposition members saying the proposal lacks transparency.
Last night, one senior source within Glasgow’s gay community warned of “considerable fallout” and “deep unease” if the council’s recommendation goes ahead, while others claim it has already created schisms within those at the forefront of gender politics in the city.
As well as Ms Black, who jumped ship to Labour last year having been Scotland’s only Solidarity councillor, the interim committee for the Castro bid includes Robert Tamburrini, the chief executive of North Glasgow Housing Association, and John Wilkes, head of the Scottish Refugee Council. Glasgay’s personnel includes Green MSP Patrick Harvie, Lynne Sheridan, sister of Tommy, and Glasgow Labour councillor Tom McKeown and his party colleague Irene Graham.
The source said: “Given the track record of the LGBT centre, this isn’t a safe decision to make when using the public’s money. When we
talk about fallout we’re not talking Stonewall riots but a deep unease.”
The LGBT centre was wound up in April, just two years after moving into new premises in the Merchant City. It had provided a range of health and social care services, as well as a bar/cafe. The £1m refurbishment of the Bell Street building included a £300,000 loan from the council, which the Castro bid has said it will pay back. If it goes ahead, the proposal will involve the council
giving Castro £47,000 to re-open the centre.
Last night, SNP councillor Alex Dingwall said: “There is a lack of transparency and detail in the reports and a real danger that the funding issued will mean that at least one of the bids will not be sustainable.”
Paul Coleshill of the LibDems said: “The report has recommended two options, one of which is effectively internal and neither of which have been properly examined. But unsurprisingly the internal option is recommended. Officers should go back and examine the bids against transparent criteria.”
A Glasgay spokesman said: “We don’t feel our bid has been fully examined.”
A council spokesman said: “The recommendation is based on the expert advice of officers from different services across the council. They believe the Castro proposal is more strongly aligned with the social inclusion agenda.”
Ms Black said: “I will declare an interest and will not be involved in the decision-making process. I have had no role in the development of the committee paper and no access to the Glasgay bid.”
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Friday, 30 October 2009
Thursday, 29 October 2009
Playing Houses (The Arches) | Glasgow University Guardian
Playing Houses (The Arches) Glasgow University Guardian
Playing Houses (The Arches)
October 23rd, 2009
Phoebe More Gordon
Playing Houses is the first full-length play by Glaswegian actor and writer Martin O’Connor. Commissioned by the Glasgay! Festival, the piece sets out to explore the event’s theme of families.
The story is of a mother and her three boys who struggle to cope with an absent husband and father. On the night of the Big Brother evictions, the boys’ father has supposedly returned. But the event is layered with the preoccupations faced by each one of the characters. Their concerns and anxieties are shown to be meticulously intertwined with issues of positive role models, male identity, teenage culture, and the significance of the media.
The youngest of the three sons, Sean, is played by the talented Scott Fletcher, whose striking performance is particularly absorbing. The especially Scottish context of Playing Houses proves thoroughly appropriate to the home-grown feel that Festival Director Steven Thomson seeks for this year’s turn out.
As for the look of the play, the use of very minimalistic decor is fitting to O’Connor’s intensions of a deliberately lo-fi setting. Indeed, this is successful in creating the intended intimacy between characters and audience, which is taken even further by the superb venue itself — a small cave-like room of the Arches.
A number of individual pedestals are installed across the stage, the use of which generates a largely alienating and isolating effect upon the characters, for whom the absence of a predominant male figure marginalises them not only independently, but also on a wider scale within their society. Each actor moves around the stage only occasionally, otherwise remaining confined to their respective pedestals, seemingly condemned to these restricted spaces.
The manipulation of light makes up part of the cleverly structured framework of the play. In a style that is significantly reminiscent of Beckett’s use of lighting in Play (1963), the characters’ speech is controlled by the ambivalent spotlight, which both triggers and blocks their discourse throughout. Each of their accounts is thus fragmented to form a cleverly constructed dialogue. The narrative is cut up and then neatly re-ordered, producing the sharp and edgy interchange of Playing Houses.
The use of authentic characters allows a highly effective reflection on modern life. The intricacies of the staging are equally compelling, and overall make for a provocative play.
Playing Houses (The Arches)
October 23rd, 2009
Phoebe More Gordon
Playing Houses is the first full-length play by Glaswegian actor and writer Martin O’Connor. Commissioned by the Glasgay! Festival, the piece sets out to explore the event’s theme of families.
The story is of a mother and her three boys who struggle to cope with an absent husband and father. On the night of the Big Brother evictions, the boys’ father has supposedly returned. But the event is layered with the preoccupations faced by each one of the characters. Their concerns and anxieties are shown to be meticulously intertwined with issues of positive role models, male identity, teenage culture, and the significance of the media.
The youngest of the three sons, Sean, is played by the talented Scott Fletcher, whose striking performance is particularly absorbing. The especially Scottish context of Playing Houses proves thoroughly appropriate to the home-grown feel that Festival Director Steven Thomson seeks for this year’s turn out.
As for the look of the play, the use of very minimalistic decor is fitting to O’Connor’s intensions of a deliberately lo-fi setting. Indeed, this is successful in creating the intended intimacy between characters and audience, which is taken even further by the superb venue itself — a small cave-like room of the Arches.
A number of individual pedestals are installed across the stage, the use of which generates a largely alienating and isolating effect upon the characters, for whom the absence of a predominant male figure marginalises them not only independently, but also on a wider scale within their society. Each actor moves around the stage only occasionally, otherwise remaining confined to their respective pedestals, seemingly condemned to these restricted spaces.
The manipulation of light makes up part of the cleverly structured framework of the play. In a style that is significantly reminiscent of Beckett’s use of lighting in Play (1963), the characters’ speech is controlled by the ambivalent spotlight, which both triggers and blocks their discourse throughout. Each of their accounts is thus fragmented to form a cleverly constructed dialogue. The narrative is cut up and then neatly re-ordered, producing the sharp and edgy interchange of Playing Houses.
The use of authentic characters allows a highly effective reflection on modern life. The intricacies of the staging are equally compelling, and overall make for a provocative play.
Wednesday, 28 October 2009
Glasgow University Student Television » G-Spot
Glasgow University Student Television » G-Spot
catch up with Glasgow Uni's cool TV interview with the ever so lovely Dee Heddon and the inside scoop on Glasgay highlights.
catch up with Glasgow Uni's cool TV interview with the ever so lovely Dee Heddon and the inside scoop on Glasgay highlights.
Regina, Glasgay! @Tramway, Glasgow
Regina, Glasgay! @Tramway, Glasgow
http://www.heraldscotland.com/arts-ents/stage-visual-arts/regina-glasgay-tramway-glasgow-1.928462
Mary Brennan
Published on 25 Oct 2009
Dancing was, by all accounts, a favourite past-time for Queen Elizabeth: even into advanced old age, she’d kick up her heels in private, albeit without a partner.
Perhaps it stirred memories of when, held close by the favoured Earl of Leicester, she’d revelled in the high, leg-exposing leaps of La Volta – not just a monarch, but a woman.
Dancing is something that Tom Sapsford does with brio, grace and what seems to be an intuitive expressiveness. So when, in the farthingaled guise of Good Queen Bess – face a white mask, framed by an elaborate ruff – Sapsford springs and capers with neat (bare) feet or glides into patterns of courtly steps, embellished with precise quirks of wrist or finger, then Regina is quite wonderful to watch. Even when, ornamental headdress discarded, he stands still so that projections can play across his face – affording us an image of the “public icon” and the individual, at odds, within – there’s enough to hold our attention.
However, the sequences where Sapsford lip-syncs to a voiceover culled from Elizabeth’s letters, or the writings of her contemporaries, pall all too quickly. In part, it’s the density of the spoken text, unrelieved by any action. In part, it’s the tone of Elizabeth McKechnie’s delivery which verges, unnervingly, on Margaret Thatcher.
And when a plaster bust replaces Sapsford centre-stage, despite the play of historical likenesses over it, the trundling on of yet more taped oratory is simply tedious. The welcome highpoints are Sapsford dancing, abetted by Agnes Dromgoole as the little girl/inner child who sails the model Armada fleet across the floor like toys.
http://www.heraldscotland.com/arts-ents/stage-visual-arts/regina-glasgay-tramway-glasgow-1.928462
Mary Brennan
Published on 25 Oct 2009
Dancing was, by all accounts, a favourite past-time for Queen Elizabeth: even into advanced old age, she’d kick up her heels in private, albeit without a partner.
Perhaps it stirred memories of when, held close by the favoured Earl of Leicester, she’d revelled in the high, leg-exposing leaps of La Volta – not just a monarch, but a woman.
Dancing is something that Tom Sapsford does with brio, grace and what seems to be an intuitive expressiveness. So when, in the farthingaled guise of Good Queen Bess – face a white mask, framed by an elaborate ruff – Sapsford springs and capers with neat (bare) feet or glides into patterns of courtly steps, embellished with precise quirks of wrist or finger, then Regina is quite wonderful to watch. Even when, ornamental headdress discarded, he stands still so that projections can play across his face – affording us an image of the “public icon” and the individual, at odds, within – there’s enough to hold our attention.
However, the sequences where Sapsford lip-syncs to a voiceover culled from Elizabeth’s letters, or the writings of her contemporaries, pall all too quickly. In part, it’s the density of the spoken text, unrelieved by any action. In part, it’s the tone of Elizabeth McKechnie’s delivery which verges, unnervingly, on Margaret Thatcher.
And when a plaster bust replaces Sapsford centre-stage, despite the play of historical likenesses over it, the trundling on of yet more taped oratory is simply tedious. The welcome highpoints are Sapsford dancing, abetted by Agnes Dromgoole as the little girl/inner child who sails the model Armada fleet across the floor like toys.
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
The dark side of Maw Broon - Times Online
The dark side of Maw Broon - Times Online
From The Sunday Times
October 25, 2009
The dark side of Maw Broon
Jackie Kay is taking Scotland’s best loved cartoon mother from page to stage with a modern twist
by Anna Burnside
Maw Broon and her rambunctious multigenerational family occupy a unique place in the Scottish psyche. We read about their exploits in the Sunday Post, or in an annual, as if they were distant relations, the Auchenshoogle branch of every Scottish clan. But they are not. They are two-dimensional black-and-white period pieces. Dudley Watkins inked his first cartoon strip in 1936 and glamourpuss Maggie and bunnet-wearing Paw have not changed since.
“If you read a 19th-century novel, or one set in the 1930s, you are aware that you are reading something historical,” says Jackie Kay, a writer and long-time Broons fan. “But with the Broons you are not. Somehow, we manage to keep them contemporary.”
This is meat and drink — or should that be mince and tatties? — to a playful writer such as Kay. She has been throwing Maw, complete with pinny and iron-grey bun, into the present day for over 10 years now. Her first poem featuring the matriarch of Glebe Street — Maw Broon visits the therapist — was published in 1998.
After several more appearances in Kay’s poetry collections, Maw Broon is now the star of her own full-length show, with 10 monologues and seven songs, at Glasgow’s Tron Theatre. For Kay, this was a logical extension of her one-off poems.
When Maw Broon met Gordon at No 10
“I’ve always liked the Broons. I grew up with the annuals; I loved the family. They were so detailed, they were all so different: clever Horace, pretty Maggie. Maw was always so down to earth, so dowdy, in her pinny. I wanted to have her doing things she would never do in the cartoon. It instantly forces you to look at her with a fresh eye.”
This opens the door to all kinds of comic juxtapositions, as well as allowing Kay to make some serious points about a generation of women who have hung up their pinnies and forgotten how to pot their own hough. “People identify her as a type, as if she did exist. They see her as part of their family and take her for granted.” So when Maw Broon contemplates global warming, or the plumbing arrangements beneath her stout woollen drawers — both monologue subjects — it is impossible not to listen.
They may be called monologues but there are two Maws on the stage: the real Maw Broon and her black alter ego. Kay knew from the start that they would not be monologues; these women are one and the same, Maw and “her psyche, her subconscious, her alter ego, whatever you want to call her”.
This allows Kay, a black woman who was adopted and grew up in Bishopbriggs with her white parents, to “play with being black and Scottish in a lighthearted way. For a start, it takes for granted that there are black people in Scotland, which of course there are. But all the traditional images, from shortbread tins to Maw Broon herself, are white. I wanted to reflect a change in our national self image. The one we have is out of date”.
So these are jokes that jag. Maw, on her odyssey of self-discovery, appears on a reality TV show, Scotland’s Got Talent. She also has to come face to face with her own reality, when her alter ego tells her that she is, in fact, a cartoon. Glebe Street, the butt’n’ben, the ironing board are all just black lines on a white sheet of paper.
This is devastating for Maw, but a great opportunity for Kay. “I had to shatter her illusions,” she says. “I wanted to explore how obsessed society is with reality TV and celebrity culture, the way her fiction becomes a kind of reality. Everything is the wrong way round and I thought that was rich ground for a cartoon to explore.”
Nothing is off-limits. Kay has her heroine back on the psychiatrist’s couch, suffering the indignity of colonic irrigation, singing the blues, contemplating the Greens. She even, when faced with Paw’s apparent infidelity, wonders if she has been batting for the wrong team all these years. (The show is, after all, part of the Glasgay festival.) When she meets her namesake in 10 Downing Street, the bold Maw even considers applying for his job.
“I thought it was a good political opportunity,” says Kay. “We are all so lost at the moment. These are dark times to live through. Our beliefs have taken a knocking; there is so much political apathy and horrible things happening, like the BNP on Question Time. If Maw Broon stood for prime minister, how refreshing would that be? We would have a different Britain altogether.”
The Maw Broon Monologues,Tron Theatre, Glasgow, November 3-8, www.tron.co.uk
From The Sunday Times
October 25, 2009
The dark side of Maw Broon
Jackie Kay is taking Scotland’s best loved cartoon mother from page to stage with a modern twist
by Anna Burnside
Maw Broon and her rambunctious multigenerational family occupy a unique place in the Scottish psyche. We read about their exploits in the Sunday Post, or in an annual, as if they were distant relations, the Auchenshoogle branch of every Scottish clan. But they are not. They are two-dimensional black-and-white period pieces. Dudley Watkins inked his first cartoon strip in 1936 and glamourpuss Maggie and bunnet-wearing Paw have not changed since.
“If you read a 19th-century novel, or one set in the 1930s, you are aware that you are reading something historical,” says Jackie Kay, a writer and long-time Broons fan. “But with the Broons you are not. Somehow, we manage to keep them contemporary.”
This is meat and drink — or should that be mince and tatties? — to a playful writer such as Kay. She has been throwing Maw, complete with pinny and iron-grey bun, into the present day for over 10 years now. Her first poem featuring the matriarch of Glebe Street — Maw Broon visits the therapist — was published in 1998.
After several more appearances in Kay’s poetry collections, Maw Broon is now the star of her own full-length show, with 10 monologues and seven songs, at Glasgow’s Tron Theatre. For Kay, this was a logical extension of her one-off poems.
When Maw Broon met Gordon at No 10
“I’ve always liked the Broons. I grew up with the annuals; I loved the family. They were so detailed, they were all so different: clever Horace, pretty Maggie. Maw was always so down to earth, so dowdy, in her pinny. I wanted to have her doing things she would never do in the cartoon. It instantly forces you to look at her with a fresh eye.”
This opens the door to all kinds of comic juxtapositions, as well as allowing Kay to make some serious points about a generation of women who have hung up their pinnies and forgotten how to pot their own hough. “People identify her as a type, as if she did exist. They see her as part of their family and take her for granted.” So when Maw Broon contemplates global warming, or the plumbing arrangements beneath her stout woollen drawers — both monologue subjects — it is impossible not to listen.
They may be called monologues but there are two Maws on the stage: the real Maw Broon and her black alter ego. Kay knew from the start that they would not be monologues; these women are one and the same, Maw and “her psyche, her subconscious, her alter ego, whatever you want to call her”.
This allows Kay, a black woman who was adopted and grew up in Bishopbriggs with her white parents, to “play with being black and Scottish in a lighthearted way. For a start, it takes for granted that there are black people in Scotland, which of course there are. But all the traditional images, from shortbread tins to Maw Broon herself, are white. I wanted to reflect a change in our national self image. The one we have is out of date”.
So these are jokes that jag. Maw, on her odyssey of self-discovery, appears on a reality TV show, Scotland’s Got Talent. She also has to come face to face with her own reality, when her alter ego tells her that she is, in fact, a cartoon. Glebe Street, the butt’n’ben, the ironing board are all just black lines on a white sheet of paper.
This is devastating for Maw, but a great opportunity for Kay. “I had to shatter her illusions,” she says. “I wanted to explore how obsessed society is with reality TV and celebrity culture, the way her fiction becomes a kind of reality. Everything is the wrong way round and I thought that was rich ground for a cartoon to explore.”
Nothing is off-limits. Kay has her heroine back on the psychiatrist’s couch, suffering the indignity of colonic irrigation, singing the blues, contemplating the Greens. She even, when faced with Paw’s apparent infidelity, wonders if she has been batting for the wrong team all these years. (The show is, after all, part of the Glasgay festival.) When she meets her namesake in 10 Downing Street, the bold Maw even considers applying for his job.
“I thought it was a good political opportunity,” says Kay. “We are all so lost at the moment. These are dark times to live through. Our beliefs have taken a knocking; there is so much political apathy and horrible things happening, like the BNP on Question Time. If Maw Broon stood for prime minister, how refreshing would that be? We would have a different Britain altogether.”
The Maw Broon Monologues,Tron Theatre, Glasgow, November 3-8, www.tron.co.uk
Interview: Jackie Kay, poet, playwright and novelist - Scotsman.com News
Interview: Jackie Kay, poet, playwright and novelist - Scotsman.com News
Interview: Jackie Kay, poet, playwright and novelist
Published Date: 27 October 2009
By Susan Mansfield
IF YOU had to pick a character from Scottish fiction, a woman with spirit who could bring a sage outlook to our troubled times, a female protagonist ready for a journey of self-discovery, would you find your heroine in… Maw Broon?
Jackie Kay believes the matriarch of the much-loved cartoon family, forever cleaning the tenement stairs with mop and bucket, is more than capable of an adventure which takes in meeting the Prime Minister ("Nae relation!"), a reality talent show, Tolstoy, climate change and colonic irrigation. She is set to prove it when The Maw Broon Monologues premieres at Glasgow's Tron next week.
"She's crying out for a feminist revision," says Kay, an award-winning poet, playwright and novelist. "The idea of thinking Maw Broon into different situations and reinventing her for the 21st century has always tickled me. She has gravitas, she's serious, she's political, she's funny. There's a lot of ground to explore."Kay wrote her first Maw Broon poem in the late 1990s for her collection Off Colour, themed around health and disease. "I felt the poems were very serious and wanted to take them somewhere else. Then I had this idea, what if Maw Broon visits a psychiatrist? There's such a lot of reverence for the world of therapy and I thought she'd be the perfect person to puncture that. It seemed to me instantly funny, so then I made up my mind that I'd put a Maw Broon poem in every collection after that."
Kay, who is a wonderful performer of her own work, found audiences were delighted. "I was doing a reading in Paris, and at the end this beautiful young Parisian woman came up and said: 'Oh, I'm so delighted to hear Maw Broon, I missed her since my days in Dundee'."The way Kay emerges smiling from rehearsals suggests she's having fun; unsurprising given the combined energies of Kay, director Maggie Kinloch and actresses Terry Neason (Maw Broon) and Suzanne Bonnar (Maw Broon's doppelganger). Tom Urie's score has Maw doing a Susan Boyle with big musical numbers.But it's not all about laughs. At the same time as writing the Monologues, Kay has been writing a memoir about tracing her birth father, who is Nigerian. "I have this sense of having two lives, a life that I lived and a life that I didn't live. The idea of the double fits into that. I feel like I'm exploring what it is to be black and Scottish through Maw Broon, which has been easier and more fun than writing the memoir. It's been nice to have her as a companion."
Kay also dedicates the show to her adoptive mother, who was taught to draw cartoons as a child by Dudley D Watkins, who drew The Broons, Oor Wullie and Desperate Dan.Like many Scots, Kay grew up with Broons annuals every second Christmas. The characters, launched on 8March, 1936, have changed little in 70 years. "Each of them has a whole personality that's as thought through as any character in a novel. They're way ahead of their time in cartoon terms. It would be nice if someone did a comparative study between The Broons and The Simpsons."Kay had no problem recreating Maw Broon as a 21st-century woman on a quest for fulfilment. She says she has enough ideas to write a second show, and is considering doing one every second Christmas. Maw Broon, is well placed to comment on the times."
It's like the way pantos do up-to-the-minute jokes. I grew up watching theatre companies like 7:84 and Wildcat, political theatre with music, and seeing the potential theatre has for affecting a society in a given moment because it captures something."In 'Maw Broon Meet Gordon Broon', she is saying the Tory party is rubbish, the Labour party's let us down, let Maw Broon stand for Prime Minister ('the first ever woman cos ye cannae count Thatcher'). I know that's a humorous idea because her second name's the same as Gordon Brown's, but there's a serious side. There needs to be a complete change, a fresh way of looking at ourselves."What they should have had facing (BNP leader] Nick Griffin on Question Time was Maw Broon. She'd do a good job with him."
The Maw Broon Monologues is at the Tron, Glasgow, 3-8 November, as part of Glasgay! www.glasgay.co.uk
First published in Scotland on Sunday on 25 October 2009
Interview: Jackie Kay, poet, playwright and novelist
Published Date: 27 October 2009
By Susan Mansfield
IF YOU had to pick a character from Scottish fiction, a woman with spirit who could bring a sage outlook to our troubled times, a female protagonist ready for a journey of self-discovery, would you find your heroine in… Maw Broon?
Jackie Kay believes the matriarch of the much-loved cartoon family, forever cleaning the tenement stairs with mop and bucket, is more than capable of an adventure which takes in meeting the Prime Minister ("Nae relation!"), a reality talent show, Tolstoy, climate change and colonic irrigation. She is set to prove it when The Maw Broon Monologues premieres at Glasgow's Tron next week.
"She's crying out for a feminist revision," says Kay, an award-winning poet, playwright and novelist. "The idea of thinking Maw Broon into different situations and reinventing her for the 21st century has always tickled me. She has gravitas, she's serious, she's political, she's funny. There's a lot of ground to explore."Kay wrote her first Maw Broon poem in the late 1990s for her collection Off Colour, themed around health and disease. "I felt the poems were very serious and wanted to take them somewhere else. Then I had this idea, what if Maw Broon visits a psychiatrist? There's such a lot of reverence for the world of therapy and I thought she'd be the perfect person to puncture that. It seemed to me instantly funny, so then I made up my mind that I'd put a Maw Broon poem in every collection after that."
Kay, who is a wonderful performer of her own work, found audiences were delighted. "I was doing a reading in Paris, and at the end this beautiful young Parisian woman came up and said: 'Oh, I'm so delighted to hear Maw Broon, I missed her since my days in Dundee'."The way Kay emerges smiling from rehearsals suggests she's having fun; unsurprising given the combined energies of Kay, director Maggie Kinloch and actresses Terry Neason (Maw Broon) and Suzanne Bonnar (Maw Broon's doppelganger). Tom Urie's score has Maw doing a Susan Boyle with big musical numbers.But it's not all about laughs. At the same time as writing the Monologues, Kay has been writing a memoir about tracing her birth father, who is Nigerian. "I have this sense of having two lives, a life that I lived and a life that I didn't live. The idea of the double fits into that. I feel like I'm exploring what it is to be black and Scottish through Maw Broon, which has been easier and more fun than writing the memoir. It's been nice to have her as a companion."
Kay also dedicates the show to her adoptive mother, who was taught to draw cartoons as a child by Dudley D Watkins, who drew The Broons, Oor Wullie and Desperate Dan.Like many Scots, Kay grew up with Broons annuals every second Christmas. The characters, launched on 8March, 1936, have changed little in 70 years. "Each of them has a whole personality that's as thought through as any character in a novel. They're way ahead of their time in cartoon terms. It would be nice if someone did a comparative study between The Broons and The Simpsons."Kay had no problem recreating Maw Broon as a 21st-century woman on a quest for fulfilment. She says she has enough ideas to write a second show, and is considering doing one every second Christmas. Maw Broon, is well placed to comment on the times."
It's like the way pantos do up-to-the-minute jokes. I grew up watching theatre companies like 7:84 and Wildcat, political theatre with music, and seeing the potential theatre has for affecting a society in a given moment because it captures something."In 'Maw Broon Meet Gordon Broon', she is saying the Tory party is rubbish, the Labour party's let us down, let Maw Broon stand for Prime Minister ('the first ever woman cos ye cannae count Thatcher'). I know that's a humorous idea because her second name's the same as Gordon Brown's, but there's a serious side. There needs to be a complete change, a fresh way of looking at ourselves."What they should have had facing (BNP leader] Nick Griffin on Question Time was Maw Broon. She'd do a good job with him."
The Maw Broon Monologues is at the Tron, Glasgow, 3-8 November, as part of Glasgay! www.glasgay.co.uk
First published in Scotland on Sunday on 25 October 2009
Monday, 26 October 2009
A Child Made Of Love – Tron Theatre, Glasgow – 20th-24th October 2009 - Magazine - UK Theatre Network
A Child Made Of Love – Tron Theatre, Glasgow – 20th-24th October 2009 - Magazine - UK Theatre Network
A return to the Glasgay Festival for playwright Matthew McVarish, after the success of last year’s “To Kill A Kelpie”, with another issue based theatrical piece.
Having reviewed To Kill A Kelpie last year, and being extremely impressed by this new author, I was intrigued to see a piece that was billed as not written by, but created by Matthew McVarish. On further reading it appears this production was as much of an experiment in writing styles as it was in creating a new piece of theatre. This did give me sense of trepidation; however I’m pleased to say that this was one experiment that was far removed from Frankenstein’s Monster!
What has been created, through a collaborative writing process from the actors and creator, is a touching piece of theatre which manages to sensitively portray the story of a couple who are unable to naturally have a child, and are going through the decisions and processes involved in adoption. The fact that the couple are both men is another layer to the story which adds both drama and humour in equal measure. The piece is sympathetically played to make the audience appreciate the ideals of the couple who wish to adopt, but also challenges the characters and forces them to give forth their reasons, showing that these are no different than the reasons of any childless couple with a desire to become a parent.
The continual thread of “children’s stories” that runs through the play is a nice way to allow comedy into some very serious moments. The moment of genius that is the courtroom cross examination, interjected with readings from the story of Pinocchio highlights this beautifully. As co-authors to the piece, actors Andrew Agnew and Ed Corrie have obviously had some input into the development of their characters, and this has helped create extremely believable performances on the stage. Mr Agnew as Joe, a frustrated children’s author, shows a gentle maternal human being, whose need to become a parent bubbles under the surface as a frustration that could combust in tears at any moment. Mr Corrie, as Mike, brings his frustration to the fore. His intense portrayal of the family lawyer torn apart by his circumstances in both his work and home life brought another real layer of humanity to the piece. The relationship between both these actors was so natural and believable, that at times it did feel as if the audience were intruding in a family home.
The third actor in the piece was Kai Ross, who at 8 years old has a level of maturity that will carry him well in this business. His ethereal appearances throughout the story were another excellent use of imagery, and his interactions with the adult actors, and the audience were perfectly pitched on the right side of “cute”. The play does have moments that are a little “saccharine”, however this does lend itself well to the “Children’s Story” theme and director Lauren Graham does not allow this to take the play into tacky sentimentality.
Although this is “issue based theatre”, the issue at hand is sensitively depicted without forcing any messages to the audience. This is a moving, humorous play, which draws laughter and tears from its audience but ultimately, and most importantly, entertains.
Tron Theatre, Glasgow – 20th-24th October 7.45pm
A return to the Glasgay Festival for playwright Matthew McVarish, after the success of last year’s “To Kill A Kelpie”, with another issue based theatrical piece.
Having reviewed To Kill A Kelpie last year, and being extremely impressed by this new author, I was intrigued to see a piece that was billed as not written by, but created by Matthew McVarish. On further reading it appears this production was as much of an experiment in writing styles as it was in creating a new piece of theatre. This did give me sense of trepidation; however I’m pleased to say that this was one experiment that was far removed from Frankenstein’s Monster!
What has been created, through a collaborative writing process from the actors and creator, is a touching piece of theatre which manages to sensitively portray the story of a couple who are unable to naturally have a child, and are going through the decisions and processes involved in adoption. The fact that the couple are both men is another layer to the story which adds both drama and humour in equal measure. The piece is sympathetically played to make the audience appreciate the ideals of the couple who wish to adopt, but also challenges the characters and forces them to give forth their reasons, showing that these are no different than the reasons of any childless couple with a desire to become a parent.
The continual thread of “children’s stories” that runs through the play is a nice way to allow comedy into some very serious moments. The moment of genius that is the courtroom cross examination, interjected with readings from the story of Pinocchio highlights this beautifully. As co-authors to the piece, actors Andrew Agnew and Ed Corrie have obviously had some input into the development of their characters, and this has helped create extremely believable performances on the stage. Mr Agnew as Joe, a frustrated children’s author, shows a gentle maternal human being, whose need to become a parent bubbles under the surface as a frustration that could combust in tears at any moment. Mr Corrie, as Mike, brings his frustration to the fore. His intense portrayal of the family lawyer torn apart by his circumstances in both his work and home life brought another real layer of humanity to the piece. The relationship between both these actors was so natural and believable, that at times it did feel as if the audience were intruding in a family home.
The third actor in the piece was Kai Ross, who at 8 years old has a level of maturity that will carry him well in this business. His ethereal appearances throughout the story were another excellent use of imagery, and his interactions with the adult actors, and the audience were perfectly pitched on the right side of “cute”. The play does have moments that are a little “saccharine”, however this does lend itself well to the “Children’s Story” theme and director Lauren Graham does not allow this to take the play into tacky sentimentality.
Although this is “issue based theatre”, the issue at hand is sensitively depicted without forcing any messages to the audience. This is a moving, humorous play, which draws laughter and tears from its audience but ultimately, and most importantly, entertains.
Tron Theatre, Glasgow – 20th-24th October 7.45pm
Theatre review: A Child Made Of Love - Scotsman.com Living
Theatre review: A Child Made Of Love - Scotsman.com Living
By Joyce McMillan
TRON THEATRE, GLASGOW***
OF ALL the themes to emerge from gay theatre over the past 25 years, the story of gay men who yearn for fatherhood has been the slowest to surface. Now, though, many gay couples are facing the familiar dilemmas of parenthood, with the added complications of adoption or surrogacy.Matthew McVarish's A Child Made Of Love – commissioned by Glasgay! and seen at the Tron last week – is a soft-hearted little drama, with a song thrown in, about a loving gay couple and their quest for a son; indeed, if Oscar Wilde had been around, he might have called it a play of "more than usually revolting sentimentality", so shamelessly does it twang our heartstrings. It is performed with great heart and skill, though, by Andrew Agnew and Ed Corrie, with superb child actor Kai Ross as the image of their future son; and, simple though it is, it signals a whole new era of intense male involvement in the business of parenthood and child-raising.It's worth noting, too, that there was a much sharper take on the gay quest for fatherhood in Markus Makavellian's rap show International Order, at the Arches last week. Makavellian – aka Drew Taylor – is a performer who comes on in outrageous drag-queen gear and sets out to shock. After a while, though, he pulls off his sparkly wig and emerges as a formidable performance poet. His voice is raw, clever and disturbing, and we will be hearing much more of it in years to come.
By Joyce McMillan
TRON THEATRE, GLASGOW***
OF ALL the themes to emerge from gay theatre over the past 25 years, the story of gay men who yearn for fatherhood has been the slowest to surface. Now, though, many gay couples are facing the familiar dilemmas of parenthood, with the added complications of adoption or surrogacy.Matthew McVarish's A Child Made Of Love – commissioned by Glasgay! and seen at the Tron last week – is a soft-hearted little drama, with a song thrown in, about a loving gay couple and their quest for a son; indeed, if Oscar Wilde had been around, he might have called it a play of "more than usually revolting sentimentality", so shamelessly does it twang our heartstrings. It is performed with great heart and skill, though, by Andrew Agnew and Ed Corrie, with superb child actor Kai Ross as the image of their future son; and, simple though it is, it signals a whole new era of intense male involvement in the business of parenthood and child-raising.It's worth noting, too, that there was a much sharper take on the gay quest for fatherhood in Markus Makavellian's rap show International Order, at the Arches last week. Makavellian – aka Drew Taylor – is a performer who comes on in outrageous drag-queen gear and sets out to shock. After a while, though, he pulls off his sparkly wig and emerges as a formidable performance poet. His voice is raw, clever and disturbing, and we will be hearing much more of it in years to come.
Saturday, 24 October 2009
International Order (The Arches) | Glasgow University Guardian
International Order (The Arches) Glasgow University Guardian
International Order (The Arches)
Posted by Dominic Maxwell-Lewis • October 23rd, 2009
Telling tales in possibly the most flamboyant way imaginable, Drew Taylor adds incredible flare to his performance as Markus Makavellian at this year’s Glasgay! festival. A mixture of stories, told in flowing metrical dialogue, dip from streams of consciousness to structured word play to magnificent effect.
His show, International Order, seems to be a retort to the compartmentalisation of lifestyles in a decade dominated by media obsession and emotional objectification. The steps taken towards the event, billed as ‘performance poetry’, were naturally tentative — it seems to be a common mindset that these kinds of things can go either way.For those who have not experienced performance art of any kind before, it is certainly an unnerving concept. The lack of parameters denote a free form in which all features of a person’s self can be displayed, and unsurprisingly, this kind of environment can lead to self-indulgence of the most tedious kind.
It’s apparent from the outset that Markus Makavellian doesn’t want us to be alienated from him, despite the outlandish, pseudo-military drag outfit. A scatological opening segment makes it clear that we are all human and function in the same way, and from this moment on, audience and performer are equal.
Leading on from this, a combative approach to the issues of love, lust and self-validation throughout Taylor’s life lends itself to the debris surrounding the stage, which seems to be representative of a battlefield. During the trio of monologues entitled “Do you like being the man now?”, muffled sounds of war play over the speakers; pieces which seem to illustrate the significance of ‘the other’ in the life of Drew Taylor.
The vignettes serve as a template for his life, in which he is found to be living vicariously through others and repeating certain routines. This is made clear in the dialogue, whereby times, places and images are used to different effects through the use of repetition — although how closely the persona of Markus Makavellian mirrors that of performer Drew Taylor is somewhat unclear.
The observations in the show are often that of a wide-eyed child, whilst at the same time knowing and cynical. Some of the stories border on a more solipsistic side of Markus, which perhaps is closer to the man himself. A person seemingly ruled by relationships — and bruised as a result of some — is very easy to empathise with, so it is difficult to be critical of a performance made up of so much deeply personal material.
There are funny moments too, and it seemed as though their purpose was to offset the serious tone that seemed to loom when subjects became too weighty. This was particularly apparent at the end of the show when, after a beautiful ode to a loved one, a short comic ditty caps off the evening, which seemed to cheapen the sentiment that preceded it.
Although this approach seemed to lessen the performance for me, to a certain extent it seemed necessary, as some of the audience, beer in hand, had come to laugh — and indeed the observational wit of Markus Makavellian’s world is truly entertaining.
International Order is a thoroughly engaging and at times very moving experience — and makes a terrific addition to the already strong Glasgay! festival line-up.
International Order (The Arches)
Posted by Dominic Maxwell-Lewis • October 23rd, 2009
Telling tales in possibly the most flamboyant way imaginable, Drew Taylor adds incredible flare to his performance as Markus Makavellian at this year’s Glasgay! festival. A mixture of stories, told in flowing metrical dialogue, dip from streams of consciousness to structured word play to magnificent effect.
His show, International Order, seems to be a retort to the compartmentalisation of lifestyles in a decade dominated by media obsession and emotional objectification. The steps taken towards the event, billed as ‘performance poetry’, were naturally tentative — it seems to be a common mindset that these kinds of things can go either way.For those who have not experienced performance art of any kind before, it is certainly an unnerving concept. The lack of parameters denote a free form in which all features of a person’s self can be displayed, and unsurprisingly, this kind of environment can lead to self-indulgence of the most tedious kind.
It’s apparent from the outset that Markus Makavellian doesn’t want us to be alienated from him, despite the outlandish, pseudo-military drag outfit. A scatological opening segment makes it clear that we are all human and function in the same way, and from this moment on, audience and performer are equal.
Leading on from this, a combative approach to the issues of love, lust and self-validation throughout Taylor’s life lends itself to the debris surrounding the stage, which seems to be representative of a battlefield. During the trio of monologues entitled “Do you like being the man now?”, muffled sounds of war play over the speakers; pieces which seem to illustrate the significance of ‘the other’ in the life of Drew Taylor.
The vignettes serve as a template for his life, in which he is found to be living vicariously through others and repeating certain routines. This is made clear in the dialogue, whereby times, places and images are used to different effects through the use of repetition — although how closely the persona of Markus Makavellian mirrors that of performer Drew Taylor is somewhat unclear.
The observations in the show are often that of a wide-eyed child, whilst at the same time knowing and cynical. Some of the stories border on a more solipsistic side of Markus, which perhaps is closer to the man himself. A person seemingly ruled by relationships — and bruised as a result of some — is very easy to empathise with, so it is difficult to be critical of a performance made up of so much deeply personal material.
There are funny moments too, and it seemed as though their purpose was to offset the serious tone that seemed to loom when subjects became too weighty. This was particularly apparent at the end of the show when, after a beautiful ode to a loved one, a short comic ditty caps off the evening, which seemed to cheapen the sentiment that preceded it.
Although this approach seemed to lessen the performance for me, to a certain extent it seemed necessary, as some of the audience, beer in hand, had come to laugh — and indeed the observational wit of Markus Makavellian’s world is truly entertaining.
International Order is a thoroughly engaging and at times very moving experience — and makes a terrific addition to the already strong Glasgay! festival line-up.
Friday, 23 October 2009
Playing Houses, Arches, Glasgow - Herald Scotland | Arts & Ents | Stage & Visual Arts
Playing Houses, Arches, Glasgow - Herald Scotland Arts & Ents Stage & Visual Arts
Playing Houses, Arches, Glasgow
Star rating: ****
Nadine McBay
Published on 15 Oct 2009
Like much of his previous work, Martin O’Connor’s Playing Houses explores 21st-century masculinity through monologue, yet it is a bold step forward for the writer-director. Whereas Reality, his 2007 piece for Glasgay, saw him perform three linked monologues, this Glasgay/Arches co-comission is his first full-length play and the first to feature actors other than himself.
It’s the warm, sticky evening of the Big Brother final. Neither deserted mother Sandra (Vivien Grahame) nor her three sons have been keeping up with the series, but they’ll each watch the spectacle from their own rooms – that is, until their hitherto AWOL father makes an appearance. The scenario functions as a springboard from which to investigate four experiences of gender – or five, if you count that of Da, whose absence gives him a kind of all-pervasive presence.
Sandra feels washed up at 36, oldest son Wee Andy (Jordan McCurrach) is facing fatherhood himself, Michael (Neil Leiper) has been involved in a homophobic attack and confused youngster Sean (Scott Fletcher) attempts to solve his problems through daytime TV. All are searching for validation and belonging, something not afforded them either outside or inside the home, where Kirsty McCabe’s simple, four-piece set solidifies their separateness.
Indeed, the only occasions where the monologues threaten to give way to dialogue are fatally frustrated: the four literally cannot communicate with each other. Yet the tension never suffocates the humour – and nor does that humour detract from the gravity. O’Connor’s growth as a writer makes for compelling viewing, as well as a climax few will see coming.
Playing Houses, Arches, Glasgow
Star rating: ****
Nadine McBay
Published on 15 Oct 2009
Like much of his previous work, Martin O’Connor’s Playing Houses explores 21st-century masculinity through monologue, yet it is a bold step forward for the writer-director. Whereas Reality, his 2007 piece for Glasgay, saw him perform three linked monologues, this Glasgay/Arches co-comission is his first full-length play and the first to feature actors other than himself.
It’s the warm, sticky evening of the Big Brother final. Neither deserted mother Sandra (Vivien Grahame) nor her three sons have been keeping up with the series, but they’ll each watch the spectacle from their own rooms – that is, until their hitherto AWOL father makes an appearance. The scenario functions as a springboard from which to investigate four experiences of gender – or five, if you count that of Da, whose absence gives him a kind of all-pervasive presence.
Sandra feels washed up at 36, oldest son Wee Andy (Jordan McCurrach) is facing fatherhood himself, Michael (Neil Leiper) has been involved in a homophobic attack and confused youngster Sean (Scott Fletcher) attempts to solve his problems through daytime TV. All are searching for validation and belonging, something not afforded them either outside or inside the home, where Kirsty McCabe’s simple, four-piece set solidifies their separateness.
Indeed, the only occasions where the monologues threaten to give way to dialogue are fatally frustrated: the four literally cannot communicate with each other. Yet the tension never suffocates the humour – and nor does that humour detract from the gravity. O’Connor’s growth as a writer makes for compelling viewing, as well as a climax few will see coming.
Jings, what would Maw Broon say? - Herald Scotland | Arts & Ents | More Arts & Entertainment News
Jings, what would Maw Broon say? - Herald Scotland Arts & Ents More Arts & Entertainment News
Neil Cooper
Published on 22 Oct 2009
The Broons aren’t the obvious family for a Scottish poet to be weaned on.
Jackie Kay is adopted, with Scots/Nigerian origins, so it’s maybe no surprise that she was attracted to the hustle and bustle of Scotland’s first family.
Ever since Dudley D Watkins first introduced The Broons to the world 76 years ago, every Sunday it’s been dependably the same: the archetypal cross-generational clan eking out their days in unruly harmony, living under the same roof in a timewarp unspoiled by dysfunction or any notion of a broken home.
With a family of eight to contend with – nine if you include irascible old rogue Granpaw – Maw Broon is a classic no-nonsense matriarch. In her world, one suspects, feminism is something those fancy Edinburgh types might indulge in, but is not for the likes of her. Until now, that is. The Maw Broon Monologues, which opens at Glasgow’s Tron Theatre as part of the 2009 Glasgay! festival, finds Kay setting her subject squarely in the 21st century, without so much as a weekend at the But ’n’ Ben for comfort.
Here, Maw Broon finds herself embarking on such adventures as visiting her bank manager, tracing her family tree and reading Tolstoy. In her down time she enters reality TV show Britain’s Got Talent, helps save the planet and starts an online blog. She even has colonic irrigation, which is in no way connected to her meeting with her politically inclined namesake Gordon Broon. One suspects that by the end of all this activity, Maw Broon’s cosmetic, political and psychological makeover has made her a very independent woman. In Kay’s version, make that two women, one of them black.
“Scottish literature is full of doppelgangers and dualities,” says Kay, pointing to Robert Louis Stevenson’s Jekyll and Hyde as an example. “Tragedy and comedy live in the same house, and by having doppelgangers, it’s a way of getting what we might think of as stereotypes to do something different. The Broons are Scotland’s first family, and they’re a great family who all have specific personalities that over the years you get to know.
“The joke’s usually the same, with someone having a grand idea that backfires, but with The Maw Broon Monologues, I wanted to take the idea of something unexpected happening, and see where that led.”
With this in mind, Kay and director Maggie Kinloch have cast two singer/actresses already possessed with big personalities to take on Maw Broon’s inner and outer self. While Terry Neason takes on our more familiar idea of the family-driven matriarch, Suzanne Bonnar reflects the inner yearnings and unfulfilled desires of her psyche. The result, over 10 monologues and seven songs, is a loose-knit narrative that charts one very familiar woman’s awakening to possibilities beyond her domestic circumstances.
It was Kinloch who first suggested to the poet some kind of staging of the work after watching Kay’s own performance at Glasgow Women’s Library of one of Maw Broon’s earliest forays into the big bad world beyond Auchenshoogle.
In its use of popular forms to reinvent familiar characters, The Maw Broon Monologues is the latest example of a proliferation of small-scale theatre events resembling the less strident end of feminist cabarets from the 1970s and 1980s. Back then, Victoria Wood reinvented another comic icon, this time to highlight the class war in her song, Lord Snooty and His Pals Are Alright. Now, Maw Broon might just be a woman of our time and – with black lesbian gags unlikely to be at a premium – an unlikely feminist icon. The presence of Terry Neason, whose theatre career began with John McGrath’s original 7:84 company before becoming a stalwart of Wildcat, is crucial in this respect.
“Terry and Suzanne’s voices work really well together,” Kay says. “I’d always had Suzanne in mind, because I’ve worked with her a lot before, but I’d watched Terry in Wildcat and doing her one-woman shows, and I think she’s one of these singers who manages to find the real emotion of a song rather than just her own. So that combination has worked out really well.”
The music for The Maw Broon Monologues is composed by Tom Urie, best known for another popular smash when he took on the role of Danny McGlone in the stage version of John Byrne’s comic television drama series, Tutti Frutti. While Urie’s presence in the show breaks up any accusations of all-girls-together separatism, Maw Broon’s stage debut does follow other feminisations of work made familiar in more macho ways. Most notable of these in recent times is
Denise Mina’s restyling of Hugh MacDiarmid’s epic harangue, A Drunk Man Looks At The Thistle. Mina’s monologue was first performed at Oran Mor with a sweep of hen-night panache by Karen Dunbar, another star able to combine intelligence and depth with a good night out.
“Feminism in the 1970s was quite in your face,” Kay reflects, “but it was really exciting for the times. Feminist theatre then was more agit-prop in style, the way a lot of theatre was then. Now I suppose it’s more satirical, but still packs a punch.” Kay also reveals that one of her pieces bears the magnificent title A Drunk Woman Looks At Her Nipple, with the gazed-upon areola becoming an eco-friendly symbol of the planet.
“I’m thinking about how this could be done in lots of different ways,” reveals Kay. “It could even be called Maw Broon, The Musical.” Such ambitions are a long way from Kay’s first reimagining of Maw Broon in her early poetry collections. Now, she says, “I’d quite happily put a Maw Broon monologue in every book I write until the day I die.”
As with Maw Broon’s Cookbook, which was published a couple of years ago, any forthcoming collection of Kay’s Maw Broon Monologues would be a very different proposition to the Broons Annual currently on the shelves. Not that its publishers, DC Thomson, seem to mind. Kay, after all, is only adding to The Broons’ mythology. “There’s something very zeitgeisty about The Broons just now,” Kay laughs. “It’s like Broons Reunited.”
In its current form, The Maw Broon Monologues looks and sounds rather portable. Whether it goes on to have another life, however, remains to be seen. The material’s common touch may be already apparent, but Kay has been here before when her novel, Trumpet, looked set for the Hollywood treatment, with Halle Barry mooted for the lead role. Rather than burst on to the big screen with a fanfare, Trumpet festered in development hell and remains unmade. “Best deal with reality as it happens,” Kay says, sounding remarkably Maw Broon-like, “and not build one’s hopes up.”
As for what Maw Broon might make of being taken from a comic strip and made flesh onstage – and her dual depiction – Kay can see both sides of the argument. “One side of her would probably think, go oan’, yerself, hen,” she speculates, “but another would be pure black affronted. Maw Broon might even walk out and stage a protest.”
The Maw Broon Monologues, Tron Theatre, Glasgow, November 3-8, www.tron.co.uk
Neil Cooper
Published on 22 Oct 2009
The Broons aren’t the obvious family for a Scottish poet to be weaned on.
Jackie Kay is adopted, with Scots/Nigerian origins, so it’s maybe no surprise that she was attracted to the hustle and bustle of Scotland’s first family.
Ever since Dudley D Watkins first introduced The Broons to the world 76 years ago, every Sunday it’s been dependably the same: the archetypal cross-generational clan eking out their days in unruly harmony, living under the same roof in a timewarp unspoiled by dysfunction or any notion of a broken home.
With a family of eight to contend with – nine if you include irascible old rogue Granpaw – Maw Broon is a classic no-nonsense matriarch. In her world, one suspects, feminism is something those fancy Edinburgh types might indulge in, but is not for the likes of her. Until now, that is. The Maw Broon Monologues, which opens at Glasgow’s Tron Theatre as part of the 2009 Glasgay! festival, finds Kay setting her subject squarely in the 21st century, without so much as a weekend at the But ’n’ Ben for comfort.
Here, Maw Broon finds herself embarking on such adventures as visiting her bank manager, tracing her family tree and reading Tolstoy. In her down time she enters reality TV show Britain’s Got Talent, helps save the planet and starts an online blog. She even has colonic irrigation, which is in no way connected to her meeting with her politically inclined namesake Gordon Broon. One suspects that by the end of all this activity, Maw Broon’s cosmetic, political and psychological makeover has made her a very independent woman. In Kay’s version, make that two women, one of them black.
“Scottish literature is full of doppelgangers and dualities,” says Kay, pointing to Robert Louis Stevenson’s Jekyll and Hyde as an example. “Tragedy and comedy live in the same house, and by having doppelgangers, it’s a way of getting what we might think of as stereotypes to do something different. The Broons are Scotland’s first family, and they’re a great family who all have specific personalities that over the years you get to know.
“The joke’s usually the same, with someone having a grand idea that backfires, but with The Maw Broon Monologues, I wanted to take the idea of something unexpected happening, and see where that led.”
With this in mind, Kay and director Maggie Kinloch have cast two singer/actresses already possessed with big personalities to take on Maw Broon’s inner and outer self. While Terry Neason takes on our more familiar idea of the family-driven matriarch, Suzanne Bonnar reflects the inner yearnings and unfulfilled desires of her psyche. The result, over 10 monologues and seven songs, is a loose-knit narrative that charts one very familiar woman’s awakening to possibilities beyond her domestic circumstances.
It was Kinloch who first suggested to the poet some kind of staging of the work after watching Kay’s own performance at Glasgow Women’s Library of one of Maw Broon’s earliest forays into the big bad world beyond Auchenshoogle.
In its use of popular forms to reinvent familiar characters, The Maw Broon Monologues is the latest example of a proliferation of small-scale theatre events resembling the less strident end of feminist cabarets from the 1970s and 1980s. Back then, Victoria Wood reinvented another comic icon, this time to highlight the class war in her song, Lord Snooty and His Pals Are Alright. Now, Maw Broon might just be a woman of our time and – with black lesbian gags unlikely to be at a premium – an unlikely feminist icon. The presence of Terry Neason, whose theatre career began with John McGrath’s original 7:84 company before becoming a stalwart of Wildcat, is crucial in this respect.
“Terry and Suzanne’s voices work really well together,” Kay says. “I’d always had Suzanne in mind, because I’ve worked with her a lot before, but I’d watched Terry in Wildcat and doing her one-woman shows, and I think she’s one of these singers who manages to find the real emotion of a song rather than just her own. So that combination has worked out really well.”
The music for The Maw Broon Monologues is composed by Tom Urie, best known for another popular smash when he took on the role of Danny McGlone in the stage version of John Byrne’s comic television drama series, Tutti Frutti. While Urie’s presence in the show breaks up any accusations of all-girls-together separatism, Maw Broon’s stage debut does follow other feminisations of work made familiar in more macho ways. Most notable of these in recent times is
Denise Mina’s restyling of Hugh MacDiarmid’s epic harangue, A Drunk Man Looks At The Thistle. Mina’s monologue was first performed at Oran Mor with a sweep of hen-night panache by Karen Dunbar, another star able to combine intelligence and depth with a good night out.
“Feminism in the 1970s was quite in your face,” Kay reflects, “but it was really exciting for the times. Feminist theatre then was more agit-prop in style, the way a lot of theatre was then. Now I suppose it’s more satirical, but still packs a punch.” Kay also reveals that one of her pieces bears the magnificent title A Drunk Woman Looks At Her Nipple, with the gazed-upon areola becoming an eco-friendly symbol of the planet.
“I’m thinking about how this could be done in lots of different ways,” reveals Kay. “It could even be called Maw Broon, The Musical.” Such ambitions are a long way from Kay’s first reimagining of Maw Broon in her early poetry collections. Now, she says, “I’d quite happily put a Maw Broon monologue in every book I write until the day I die.”
As with Maw Broon’s Cookbook, which was published a couple of years ago, any forthcoming collection of Kay’s Maw Broon Monologues would be a very different proposition to the Broons Annual currently on the shelves. Not that its publishers, DC Thomson, seem to mind. Kay, after all, is only adding to The Broons’ mythology. “There’s something very zeitgeisty about The Broons just now,” Kay laughs. “It’s like Broons Reunited.”
In its current form, The Maw Broon Monologues looks and sounds rather portable. Whether it goes on to have another life, however, remains to be seen. The material’s common touch may be already apparent, but Kay has been here before when her novel, Trumpet, looked set for the Hollywood treatment, with Halle Barry mooted for the lead role. Rather than burst on to the big screen with a fanfare, Trumpet festered in development hell and remains unmade. “Best deal with reality as it happens,” Kay says, sounding remarkably Maw Broon-like, “and not build one’s hopes up.”
As for what Maw Broon might make of being taken from a comic strip and made flesh onstage – and her dual depiction – Kay can see both sides of the argument. “One side of her would probably think, go oan’, yerself, hen,” she speculates, “but another would be pure black affronted. Maw Broon might even walk out and stage a protest.”
The Maw Broon Monologues, Tron Theatre, Glasgow, November 3-8, www.tron.co.uk
Wednesday, 21 October 2009
OnstageScotland.co.uk :: Review :: A Child Made of Love by Glasgay!
OnstageScotland.co.uk :: Review :: A Child Made of Love by Glasgay!
A Child Made of Love
Glasgay!
The difficulties of LGBT politics are often best exorcised on stage. Glasgay! commission A Child Made of Love tackles the controversial issue of gay adoption in a sweetly satirical way, borrowing the styles and motifs of nursery rhymes that provide a harsh contrast with thorny reality.
"Sweet and sincere ... not a laboured attempt to impose a political message"It is difficult to judge where a writer’s use of the fairytale theme should begin and where it should end. It would have been all to easy, and perhaps disengaging to an audience, for this problem to be solved as simplistically as Prince Charming slaying the dragon. Instead, Matthew McVarish constantly reminds us that life is not a fairy tale.
Mike and Joe’s longing for a child seems the natural progression for an relationship that has spanned eight years. Mike, an artistically frustrated children's writer, is driven mad by the unfulfilled fairy tales unfolding inside his head, while lawyer husband Joe fights a difficult child custody hearing. How should we judge paternity? By biology or by emotion?
Andrew Agnew is a remarkably soft and sensitive actor. As Mike, he brings a soothing maternal quality to the role. Appropriately, this compliments the gender roles that one might expect of the play, without descending into the high camp of a nuclear family. His warmth lends itself well to comedy and it is in this comedy that we see the defiance of survivors.
Edward Corrie, by contrast, portrays an intense need to succeed at work and at home. The strain of disappointment and frustration involved in the adoption process is underlined by a deep sadness, and this is convincingly and sophisticatedly portrayed. Even in his most fiery moments, Corrie’s eyes fill with tears.
The play’s best scenes are its quietest; those in which Agnew and Corrie pose the arguments for gay adoption. This is not a laboured attempt to impose a political message, but a sweet and sincere image of homosexual relationships. Away from the red tape that threatens their future happiness, a family home is established.
As Gepetto wished to the Blue Fairy for a son in Pinocchio, A Child Made of Love asks for a kinder understanding of an issue that has divided many.
Scott Purvis
A Child Made of Love
Glasgay!
The difficulties of LGBT politics are often best exorcised on stage. Glasgay! commission A Child Made of Love tackles the controversial issue of gay adoption in a sweetly satirical way, borrowing the styles and motifs of nursery rhymes that provide a harsh contrast with thorny reality.
"Sweet and sincere ... not a laboured attempt to impose a political message"It is difficult to judge where a writer’s use of the fairytale theme should begin and where it should end. It would have been all to easy, and perhaps disengaging to an audience, for this problem to be solved as simplistically as Prince Charming slaying the dragon. Instead, Matthew McVarish constantly reminds us that life is not a fairy tale.
Mike and Joe’s longing for a child seems the natural progression for an relationship that has spanned eight years. Mike, an artistically frustrated children's writer, is driven mad by the unfulfilled fairy tales unfolding inside his head, while lawyer husband Joe fights a difficult child custody hearing. How should we judge paternity? By biology or by emotion?
Andrew Agnew is a remarkably soft and sensitive actor. As Mike, he brings a soothing maternal quality to the role. Appropriately, this compliments the gender roles that one might expect of the play, without descending into the high camp of a nuclear family. His warmth lends itself well to comedy and it is in this comedy that we see the defiance of survivors.
Edward Corrie, by contrast, portrays an intense need to succeed at work and at home. The strain of disappointment and frustration involved in the adoption process is underlined by a deep sadness, and this is convincingly and sophisticatedly portrayed. Even in his most fiery moments, Corrie’s eyes fill with tears.
The play’s best scenes are its quietest; those in which Agnew and Corrie pose the arguments for gay adoption. This is not a laboured attempt to impose a political message, but a sweet and sincere image of homosexual relationships. Away from the red tape that threatens their future happiness, a family home is established.
As Gepetto wished to the Blue Fairy for a son in Pinocchio, A Child Made of Love asks for a kinder understanding of an issue that has divided many.
Scott Purvis
Sunday, 18 October 2009
This week's theatre previews | Stage | The Guardian
This week's theatre previews Stage The Guardian: "Memory Cells, Glasgow
Novelist and playwright Louise Welsh is very good at excavating underworlds as she proved in her superb debut novel, The Cutting Room. In this theatre piece, directed by Sam Rowe as part of Glasgay!, Welsh calls upon myths such as Orpheus and Eurydice to tell of Cora, who lies deathly still in an underground chamber. She is awakened by Barry, who promises to keep her safe, but is he the saviour he seems?
Arches, Tue to 24 Oct"
Novelist and playwright Louise Welsh is very good at excavating underworlds as she proved in her superb debut novel, The Cutting Room. In this theatre piece, directed by Sam Rowe as part of Glasgay!, Welsh calls upon myths such as Orpheus and Eurydice to tell of Cora, who lies deathly still in an underground chamber. She is awakened by Barry, who promises to keep her safe, but is he the saviour he seems?
Arches, Tue to 24 Oct"
Friday, 16 October 2009
Review: The Herald - Playing Houses, Arches, Glasgow
Playing Houses, Arches, Glasgow
Nadine McBay
Star rating: ****
Published on 15 Oct 2009
Like much of his previous work, Martin O’Connor’s Playing Houses explores 21st-century masculinity through monologue, yet it is a bold step forward for the writer-director. Whereas Reality, his 2007 piece for Glasgay, saw him perform three linked monologues, this Glasgay/Arches co-comission is his first full-length play and the first to feature actors other than himself.
It’s the warm, sticky evening of the Big Brother final. Neither deserted mother Sandra (Vivien Grahame) nor her three sons have been keeping up with the series, but they’ll each watch the spectacle from their own rooms – that is, until their hitherto AWOL father makes an appearance. The scenario functions as a springboard from which to investigate four experiences of gender – or five, if you count that of Da, whose absence gives him a kind of all-pervasive presence.
Sandra feels washed up at 36, oldest son Wee Andy (Jordan McCurrach) is facing fatherhood himself, Michael (Neil Leiper) has been involved in a homophobic attack and confused youngster Sean (Scott Fletcher) attempts to solve his problems through daytime TV. All are searching for validation and belonging, something not afforded them either outside or inside the home, where Kirsty McCabe’s simple, four-piece set solidifies their separateness.
Indeed, the only occasions where the monologues threaten to give way to dialogue are fatally frustrated: the four literally cannot communicate with each other. Yet the tension never suffocates the humour – and nor does that humour detract from the gravity.
O’Connor’s growth as a writer makes for compelling viewing, as well as a climax few will see coming.
Nadine McBay
Star rating: ****
Published on 15 Oct 2009
Like much of his previous work, Martin O’Connor’s Playing Houses explores 21st-century masculinity through monologue, yet it is a bold step forward for the writer-director. Whereas Reality, his 2007 piece for Glasgay, saw him perform three linked monologues, this Glasgay/Arches co-comission is his first full-length play and the first to feature actors other than himself.
It’s the warm, sticky evening of the Big Brother final. Neither deserted mother Sandra (Vivien Grahame) nor her three sons have been keeping up with the series, but they’ll each watch the spectacle from their own rooms – that is, until their hitherto AWOL father makes an appearance. The scenario functions as a springboard from which to investigate four experiences of gender – or five, if you count that of Da, whose absence gives him a kind of all-pervasive presence.
Sandra feels washed up at 36, oldest son Wee Andy (Jordan McCurrach) is facing fatherhood himself, Michael (Neil Leiper) has been involved in a homophobic attack and confused youngster Sean (Scott Fletcher) attempts to solve his problems through daytime TV. All are searching for validation and belonging, something not afforded them either outside or inside the home, where Kirsty McCabe’s simple, four-piece set solidifies their separateness.
Indeed, the only occasions where the monologues threaten to give way to dialogue are fatally frustrated: the four literally cannot communicate with each other. Yet the tension never suffocates the humour – and nor does that humour detract from the gravity.
O’Connor’s growth as a writer makes for compelling viewing, as well as a climax few will see coming.
Playing Houses | The Skinny
Playing Houses The Skinny:
"Playing Houses ****
Posted by Gareth K Vile
Thu 15 Oct 2009
Martin O'Connnor has been a vibrant presence in recent Glasgays!, and Playing Houses sees him take his natural, witty monologue style into a four way meditation on the role of fathers.
Rather than adopting a traditional script, Martin O'Connor interweaves four monologues into a satisfying whole, that moves to a dramatic, if slightly forced, conclusion.
O'Connor's strength is his humour and ear for the spoken word: he eases the audience into the domestic horror with typical Glaswegian humour, littering the text with religious references and pop-culture punchlines. The cast capture his poetic lilt, and carry off both the tragedy and comedy expertly.
At times, the absent father becomes like a God-figure, as if O'Connor is mourning the death of God as well as the trauma of single-parent households. It could be seen as socially conservative, suggesting that a disappearing dad undermines the stability of the household. Yet this fiercely moral play is suffused with compassion.
As the jokes fall away, the story plunges into its dark finale with the inevitable power of Greek tragedy, weakened only by the double disaster, which introduces a sub-plot about repressed homosexuality and queer-bashing that overloads the narrative and extends the running time. Yet it is marvellous to report that O'Connor is developing his ambitions and a very impressive approach to larger scale work, without losing his voice or laughter."
"Playing Houses ****
Posted by Gareth K Vile
Thu 15 Oct 2009
Martin O'Connnor has been a vibrant presence in recent Glasgays!, and Playing Houses sees him take his natural, witty monologue style into a four way meditation on the role of fathers.
Rather than adopting a traditional script, Martin O'Connor interweaves four monologues into a satisfying whole, that moves to a dramatic, if slightly forced, conclusion.
O'Connor's strength is his humour and ear for the spoken word: he eases the audience into the domestic horror with typical Glaswegian humour, littering the text with religious references and pop-culture punchlines. The cast capture his poetic lilt, and carry off both the tragedy and comedy expertly.
At times, the absent father becomes like a God-figure, as if O'Connor is mourning the death of God as well as the trauma of single-parent households. It could be seen as socially conservative, suggesting that a disappearing dad undermines the stability of the household. Yet this fiercely moral play is suffused with compassion.
As the jokes fall away, the story plunges into its dark finale with the inevitable power of Greek tragedy, weakened only by the double disaster, which introduces a sub-plot about repressed homosexuality and queer-bashing that overloads the narrative and extends the running time. Yet it is marvellous to report that O'Connor is developing his ambitions and a very impressive approach to larger scale work, without losing his voice or laughter."
Theatre review: Playing Houses - The Scotsman
Theatre review: Playing Houses - The Scotsman
Published Date: 16 October 2009
By JOYCE McMILLAN
PLAYING HOUSES ****THE ARCHES, GLASGOW
THINK OF Glasgay! – Glasgow's annual celebration of queer culture – and lots of things come to mind: visual razzle-dazzle, cutting-edge performance art, and passionate reworkings of classic texts by gay writers. Fine new writing, though, has tended to come further down the list. So it's a pleasure to find that the first of this year's new Glasgay! plays – co-commissioned by the Festival and the Arches – is a strikingly powerful quadruple monologue, that confirms its writer, Martin O'Connor, as an important emerging talent.Playing Houses is an 80-minute reflection on the fate of a family of three boys who – along with their feisty mother, Sandra – have been abandoned by their father, Big Andy. Using these four voices, O'Connor first reflects on their experience, and then moves the drama on through the fateful day when Big Andy chooses to return for a visit, raising a series of profound questions about fatherhood, masculinity, family and belonging in a blasted post-industrial landscape. Sandra is unforgettable, beautifully played by Vivien Grahame: a failed working-class matriarch with a poetic turn of phrase, a surreal sense of humour, and a searingly sharp eye for the strangeness of her world.The tragedy, when it comes, is slightly ill-prepared; a horrific gay-bashing incident emerges suddenly from the chaos of the family's life. But the quality of the writing, in a sharp but lyrical Glasgow demotic, never fails. And Jordan McCurrach, Neil Leiper and Scott Fletcher are all in fine form as Sandra's three boys; the teenage dad, the young thug and the gay schoolkid, all lost in a world that was short of waymarks even before their Dad walked out, ripping the heart from their lives.
Published Date: 16 October 2009
By JOYCE McMILLAN
PLAYING HOUSES ****THE ARCHES, GLASGOW
THINK OF Glasgay! – Glasgow's annual celebration of queer culture – and lots of things come to mind: visual razzle-dazzle, cutting-edge performance art, and passionate reworkings of classic texts by gay writers. Fine new writing, though, has tended to come further down the list. So it's a pleasure to find that the first of this year's new Glasgay! plays – co-commissioned by the Festival and the Arches – is a strikingly powerful quadruple monologue, that confirms its writer, Martin O'Connor, as an important emerging talent.Playing Houses is an 80-minute reflection on the fate of a family of three boys who – along with their feisty mother, Sandra – have been abandoned by their father, Big Andy. Using these four voices, O'Connor first reflects on their experience, and then moves the drama on through the fateful day when Big Andy chooses to return for a visit, raising a series of profound questions about fatherhood, masculinity, family and belonging in a blasted post-industrial landscape. Sandra is unforgettable, beautifully played by Vivien Grahame: a failed working-class matriarch with a poetic turn of phrase, a surreal sense of humour, and a searingly sharp eye for the strangeness of her world.The tragedy, when it comes, is slightly ill-prepared; a horrific gay-bashing incident emerges suddenly from the chaos of the family's life. But the quality of the writing, in a sharp but lyrical Glasgow demotic, never fails. And Jordan McCurrach, Neil Leiper and Scott Fletcher are all in fine form as Sandra's three boys; the teenage dad, the young thug and the gay schoolkid, all lost in a world that was short of waymarks even before their Dad walked out, ripping the heart from their lives.
Monday, 12 October 2009
Claire Black: 'The Dani Marti stooshie has knocked the sparkle off the Glasgay! sequins' - Scotland on Sunday
Claire Black: 'The Dani Marti stooshie has knocked the sparkle off the Glasgay! sequins' - Scotland on Sunday
Claire Black: 'The Dani Marti stooshie has knocked the sparkle off the Glasgay! sequins'
Published Date: 11 October 2009
'SO A wee boy's arrived to stay with the guys over the road," I tell my mum as she demolishes a toasted teacake. "A cabin bed has appeared and I've seen him bouncing a ball off the living-room walls."
"Oh lovely," she says, chewing. "Do you think they're fostering? That would be wonderful. Lucky boy."I know I shouldn't monitor my neighbours, but I make an exception for the gay couple who live across from us. They sing karaoke and get dolled up. Once we gave a particularly fine outfit a round of applause at the window and he took a bow. Who says community spirit is dead?I don't know these men, obviously. I've never spoken to them. Our relationship is purely window-based. But my mother's reaction to the boy's arrival, whether he's fostered or not, is something from which Culture and Sport Glasgow (CSG), the group responsible for delivering cultural and sports services in the Weege, could learn a thing or three.I don't think my mum read The Looked After Children (Scotland) Regulations that came into force a couple of weeks ago (she prefers a good Diana Gabaldon to policy documents), but the fact that she doesn't see being gay and having a family as remotely incompatible is something from which people deficient in the tolerance stakes might just learn. Glasgay! festival is on at the moment – its theme this year is family – and although there's the usual eclectic programme (shake your tooshie at Death Disco, take part in a debate chaired by writers Louise Welsh and Zoe Strachan, or pop along to Jackie Kay's Maw Broon Monologues) there's been a bit of a stooshie, which for a little while knocked the sparkle off the sequins. The gist is that artist Dani Marti was commissioned to create work for Glasgow's Gallery of Modern Art (GoMA). He did that, using a three-month residency at the gallery and gay men's health as his subject matter. The work tackled the stigma of HIV, but before it was shown CSG stigmatised – erm, I mean deemed unsuitable – two of Marti's films and decided not to show them. The arts community has ended up shouting about censorship and CSG has tried to argue that if a piece of art might possibly offend some people, it shouldn't be shown in a city centre gallery. Now I don't mean to drag us into the "art isn't a cup of cocoa and a warm pair of slippers but a potentially controversial, possibly unpleasant, hopefully stimulating experience" debate, but I feel I have to. Blame CSG if you must. The thing about art is that you don't have to like it. You can perfectly reasonably hate it, but you should be able to see it. And the thing about Glasgay! is that it's about celebrating cultures and lifestyles and interests that might be different from yours but are no less valid. Unless we've slipped back to 1989 and Section 28, and I should be wearing a ra-ra skirt.Glasgow is celebrated the world over (not in Edinburgh, perhaps, but almost everywhere else I've ever been) for its arts scene. It's a city where hipsters, fashion designers and muso types prance around in skinny jeans with silly haircuts. It's why festivals like Glasgay! are so good. It's why the city itself is so fine. My mum loves it. Glasgow's bureaucracy should get to grips with it.
Claire Black: 'The Dani Marti stooshie has knocked the sparkle off the Glasgay! sequins'
Published Date: 11 October 2009
'SO A wee boy's arrived to stay with the guys over the road," I tell my mum as she demolishes a toasted teacake. "A cabin bed has appeared and I've seen him bouncing a ball off the living-room walls."
"Oh lovely," she says, chewing. "Do you think they're fostering? That would be wonderful. Lucky boy."I know I shouldn't monitor my neighbours, but I make an exception for the gay couple who live across from us. They sing karaoke and get dolled up. Once we gave a particularly fine outfit a round of applause at the window and he took a bow. Who says community spirit is dead?I don't know these men, obviously. I've never spoken to them. Our relationship is purely window-based. But my mother's reaction to the boy's arrival, whether he's fostered or not, is something from which Culture and Sport Glasgow (CSG), the group responsible for delivering cultural and sports services in the Weege, could learn a thing or three.I don't think my mum read The Looked After Children (Scotland) Regulations that came into force a couple of weeks ago (she prefers a good Diana Gabaldon to policy documents), but the fact that she doesn't see being gay and having a family as remotely incompatible is something from which people deficient in the tolerance stakes might just learn. Glasgay! festival is on at the moment – its theme this year is family – and although there's the usual eclectic programme (shake your tooshie at Death Disco, take part in a debate chaired by writers Louise Welsh and Zoe Strachan, or pop along to Jackie Kay's Maw Broon Monologues) there's been a bit of a stooshie, which for a little while knocked the sparkle off the sequins. The gist is that artist Dani Marti was commissioned to create work for Glasgow's Gallery of Modern Art (GoMA). He did that, using a three-month residency at the gallery and gay men's health as his subject matter. The work tackled the stigma of HIV, but before it was shown CSG stigmatised – erm, I mean deemed unsuitable – two of Marti's films and decided not to show them. The arts community has ended up shouting about censorship and CSG has tried to argue that if a piece of art might possibly offend some people, it shouldn't be shown in a city centre gallery. Now I don't mean to drag us into the "art isn't a cup of cocoa and a warm pair of slippers but a potentially controversial, possibly unpleasant, hopefully stimulating experience" debate, but I feel I have to. Blame CSG if you must. The thing about art is that you don't have to like it. You can perfectly reasonably hate it, but you should be able to see it. And the thing about Glasgay! is that it's about celebrating cultures and lifestyles and interests that might be different from yours but are no less valid. Unless we've slipped back to 1989 and Section 28, and I should be wearing a ra-ra skirt.Glasgow is celebrated the world over (not in Edinburgh, perhaps, but almost everywhere else I've ever been) for its arts scene. It's a city where hipsters, fashion designers and muso types prance around in skinny jeans with silly haircuts. It's why festivals like Glasgay! are so good. It's why the city itself is so fine. My mum loves it. Glasgow's bureaucracy should get to grips with it.
Thursday, 8 October 2009
GLASGAY FESTIVAL WRITTEN INTO CORONATION STREET!? | Visit Britain
GLASGAY FESTIVAL WRITTEN INTO CORONATION STREET!? Visit Britain
GLASGAY FESTIVAL WRITTEN INTO CORONATION STREET!?
Posted on 29 September 2009 by Serge
According to episode guides at TV.com for Coronation Street, next Monday (5th Oct) Corrie’s Kevin Webster & Molly Dobbs who are having a steamy affair plan a secret romantic trip to Glasgow, away from the prying eyes of Molly’s husband Tyrone.
But confusion reigns as Kevin’s daughter Sophie thinks they are heading north to take part in the GLASGAY 10K run, and demands to know if there is something her father is not telling them! Molly quickly steps in to say she has always been a keen supporter of Gay causes.
Are there new secrets to be revealed on Britain’s most gay-friendly soap opera? Is that moustache finally going to give Kevin away? Well, we’ve all wondered haven’t we?
With any luck they’ll arrive just in time for the launch of the Glasgay theatre programme instead, which kicks off on Tuesday the 6th October!
Glasgay! programme 2009 runs from 6th Oct - 8th Nov.glasgay.com
Add Your Comments
GLASGAY FESTIVAL WRITTEN INTO CORONATION STREET!?
Posted on 29 September 2009 by Serge
According to episode guides at TV.com for Coronation Street, next Monday (5th Oct) Corrie’s Kevin Webster & Molly Dobbs who are having a steamy affair plan a secret romantic trip to Glasgow, away from the prying eyes of Molly’s husband Tyrone.
But confusion reigns as Kevin’s daughter Sophie thinks they are heading north to take part in the GLASGAY 10K run, and demands to know if there is something her father is not telling them! Molly quickly steps in to say she has always been a keen supporter of Gay causes.
Are there new secrets to be revealed on Britain’s most gay-friendly soap opera? Is that moustache finally going to give Kevin away? Well, we’ve all wondered haven’t we?
With any luck they’ll arrive just in time for the launch of the Glasgay theatre programme instead, which kicks off on Tuesday the 6th October!
Glasgay! programme 2009 runs from 6th Oct - 8th Nov.glasgay.com
Add Your Comments
Theatre review: Bette/Cavett - The Scotsman
Theatre review: Bette/Cavett - The Scotsman
Published Date: 08 October 2009
By Jay Richardson
BETTE/CAVETT ****
TRON THEATRE, GLASGOW
AT THE start of this entertaining head-to-head, chat show host Dick Cavett (Mark Prendergast) muses upon the distinction between an "actor" and a "star", finally plumping for "superstar" as the only term befitting Bette Davis.Perched opposite, Grant Smeaton doesn't so much play the part of Davis as simply try to project as much of that superstar stateliness as possible. The result is a beguiling curio, seemingly devised and directed by Smeaton as an unadorned tribute to a Hollywood luminary in her own words, fondly harking back to an era when celebrities gamely opened up about their lives without anything to plug. Simultaneously, it evokes a strange, second-hand nostalgia for a meeting of minds most of its audience won't have experienced first time around. The Dick Cavett Show never aired in Britain, so this recreation of Davis's iconic 1971 appearance feels both familiar and fresh, eliciting real whoops and applause from many in tonight's "studio", with distance only restored momentarily with the sight of a man knowingly crossing and uncrossing his 63-year-old woman's legs. Prendergast's deference feels more genuine than the genuine article, and although the stakes aren't Frost/Nixon exactly, he elicits remarkable candour. With only the occasional mannerism exaggerated and the baleful stare of those legendary eyes, Smeaton affectionately embodies rather than impersonates, remaining entirely faithful to Davis's transcript. Reservoirs of disdain are expressed in fleeting reference to Joan Crawford; there's the tale of a near-fatal wasp sting in Scotland, and the battles to wrest control of her career from the domineering studios have endlessly tragic glamour. Glowing allusion to her daughter carries poignancy given their subsequent estrangement, and the play draws considerable levity from routinely cutting to some hilariously dated commercials
Published Date: 08 October 2009
By Jay Richardson
BETTE/CAVETT ****
TRON THEATRE, GLASGOW
AT THE start of this entertaining head-to-head, chat show host Dick Cavett (Mark Prendergast) muses upon the distinction between an "actor" and a "star", finally plumping for "superstar" as the only term befitting Bette Davis.Perched opposite, Grant Smeaton doesn't so much play the part of Davis as simply try to project as much of that superstar stateliness as possible. The result is a beguiling curio, seemingly devised and directed by Smeaton as an unadorned tribute to a Hollywood luminary in her own words, fondly harking back to an era when celebrities gamely opened up about their lives without anything to plug. Simultaneously, it evokes a strange, second-hand nostalgia for a meeting of minds most of its audience won't have experienced first time around. The Dick Cavett Show never aired in Britain, so this recreation of Davis's iconic 1971 appearance feels both familiar and fresh, eliciting real whoops and applause from many in tonight's "studio", with distance only restored momentarily with the sight of a man knowingly crossing and uncrossing his 63-year-old woman's legs. Prendergast's deference feels more genuine than the genuine article, and although the stakes aren't Frost/Nixon exactly, he elicits remarkable candour. With only the occasional mannerism exaggerated and the baleful stare of those legendary eyes, Smeaton affectionately embodies rather than impersonates, remaining entirely faithful to Davis's transcript. Reservoirs of disdain are expressed in fleeting reference to Joan Crawford; there's the tale of a near-fatal wasp sting in Scotland, and the battles to wrest control of her career from the domineering studios have endlessly tragic glamour. Glowing allusion to her daughter carries poignancy given their subsequent estrangement, and the play draws considerable levity from routinely cutting to some hilariously dated commercials
Bette/Cavett - Herald Scotland | Arts & Ents | Stage & Visual Arts
Bette/Cavett - Herald Scotland Arts & Ents Stage & Visual Arts
Bette/Cavett *****
Keith Bruce
Published on 8 Oct 2009
With this one show, the somewhat debatable aggregation of events that flies under the Glasgay! banner is justified. Devised and directed by Grant Smeaton, and produced by his Tangerine company, this “re-imagining” of the 1971 US TV talk show encounter between Dick Cavett and straight-talking Hollywood dame Bette Davis is a triumph and a delight. There is the cleverness of its reference points for a start. Obviously there’s Peter Morgan’s hugely successful play and film Frost/Nixon, to which this is a hilarious camp response, but more widely there is the whole world of verbatim theatre, usually so po-faced, which the show embraces.
Smeaton is, of course, Bette herself, although he looks nothing like her (who does?), Mark Prendergast an equally well-observed and recreated Dick Cavett. Both inhabit their characters with some of the most relaxed naturalistic acting I’ve ever seen. Within minutes we are not watching a performance but being the studio audience almost 40 years ago, as Cavett goes into his warm-up routine with a Q&A on the life of Bette. (This being Glasgay!, there is, of course, one bloke who knows way too much.) When the programme begins, and as the chat between the two unfolds with careful concern for period detail, it is inevitable that all sorts of questions about the changing nature of celebrity should bubble to the surface.
The same attention to the minutiae distinguishes set and costumes, as well as, hilariously, the advertisements, screened on two televisions on either side of the stage, to which Cavett is obliged to cut at regular intervals. Glasgay! should be proud to have this, because if Smeaton had taken his show to the Fringe, I’d wager it would be playing the West End by now.
Bette/Cavett,
Tron, Glasgow
Bette/Cavett *****
Keith Bruce
Published on 8 Oct 2009
With this one show, the somewhat debatable aggregation of events that flies under the Glasgay! banner is justified. Devised and directed by Grant Smeaton, and produced by his Tangerine company, this “re-imagining” of the 1971 US TV talk show encounter between Dick Cavett and straight-talking Hollywood dame Bette Davis is a triumph and a delight. There is the cleverness of its reference points for a start. Obviously there’s Peter Morgan’s hugely successful play and film Frost/Nixon, to which this is a hilarious camp response, but more widely there is the whole world of verbatim theatre, usually so po-faced, which the show embraces.
Smeaton is, of course, Bette herself, although he looks nothing like her (who does?), Mark Prendergast an equally well-observed and recreated Dick Cavett. Both inhabit their characters with some of the most relaxed naturalistic acting I’ve ever seen. Within minutes we are not watching a performance but being the studio audience almost 40 years ago, as Cavett goes into his warm-up routine with a Q&A on the life of Bette. (This being Glasgay!, there is, of course, one bloke who knows way too much.) When the programme begins, and as the chat between the two unfolds with careful concern for period detail, it is inevitable that all sorts of questions about the changing nature of celebrity should bubble to the surface.
The same attention to the minutiae distinguishes set and costumes, as well as, hilariously, the advertisements, screened on two televisions on either side of the stage, to which Cavett is obliged to cut at regular intervals. Glasgay! should be proud to have this, because if Smeaton had taken his show to the Fringe, I’d wager it would be playing the West End by now.
Bette/Cavett,
Tron, Glasgow
Monday, 5 October 2009
Conversation piece - Dani Marti interview | The List
Conversation piece - Dani Marti interview The List
Conversation piece - Dani Marti interview
Source: The List (Issue 640)
Date: 24 September 2009 (updated 5 October 2009)
Written by: Allan RadcliffeComments (0)Share this
Visual artist Dani Marti explores gay men’s health and sexuality in his work. But it’s his experience of finding a home for his most recent exhibition that has made him a political artist he tells Allan Radcliffe
Dani Marti’s new exhibition, Insideout, has been safely installed in the sh[OUT] Space at Parnie Street as part of Glasgay! Yet the convoluted tale of how one of the show’s installations ended up in this space still sticks in the craw of the Barcelona-born artist.
Insideout was developed out of Marti’s residency commissioned by the Gallery of Modern Art and Gay Men’s Health, exploring issues around gay men’s sexuality, intimacy and disclosure. Among the exhibits are sculptural works made from red PVC pot scourers, hand-sewn by volunteers from Mozambique whose lives have been affected by HIV. The works are suggestive of red blood cells, internal organs and orifices.
Also on display is a video and sound installation addressing the reality of living with the AIDS virus. Working with Gay Men’s Health, the artist, who is HIV positive, invited men of all ages to reflect on their experiences of intimacy and coming to terms with their sexuality. His research exposed certain recurring cultural attitudes.
‘I began to realise that there’s still a lot of stigma about HIV in Scotland, and also around coming out,’ he says. ‘For many of these men this was the first time they had been given permission to talk about their sexuality. Glasgow in particular, is very Calvinistic – you know, let’s not talk about emotions, let’s not talk about sexuality.’
The installation, ‘Disclosure’, was intended to feature as part of sh[OUT]: Contemporary Art and Human Rights, the social justice programme commissioned by the Gallery of Modern Art, which also included the controversial ‘Made in God’s Image’ installation, an open Bible with instructions to write in it, which offended certain religious organisations.
Marti’s own installation features seven people talking about their HIV status, including a video entitled ‘Time is the Fire’, which features a former male prostitute and porn actor discussing taking crystal meth and taking part in intense sexual acts, and another video, ‘Ausmusdad’, which features full frontal male nudity.
Email correspondence between the artist and representatives of Culture and Sport Glasgow, which runs GoMA, suggests Marti had been led to believe that his work would be shown in a Balcony Gallery at GoMA from 11 September. However, in July this year, following the controversy surrounding ‘Made in God’s Image’ CS Glasgow asked Marti to remove the most controversial videos in his installation in order ‘to reframe the debate’.
Marti believes that this was censorship on the part of a nervous council hierarchy. ‘The sh[OUT] programme was a platform commissioned by GoMA to overcome the stigma about sexuality,’ says Marti. ‘[Pornography] is not the point of my work: I’m interested in intimacy, emotions, relationships. It happens that the men featured in my work are HIV positive.
‘It was important that this work was shown at GoMA. It’s a great platform and we need to keep pushing dialogue. Now it’s going to be shown in a basement.’
Despite these recent experiences, Marti maintains that Glasgow is a great, active city in which to live and work, and that he is more determined that ever to get his message across.
‘I won’t compromise in my work at all … As an artist I have to take a stand.’
Dani Marti: Insideout, sh[OUT] Space, 14 Parnie Street, until Sat 10 Oct.
Best of the rest
Highlights from Scotland’s celebration of queer culture
Markus Makavellian’s International Order An hour in the company of glitter-painted New York performance poet Markus Makavellian, the alter ego of Glasgow-based writer and performer Drew Taylor. Arches, Wed 14 & Thu 15 Oct.
David Hoyle The performance artist formerly known as The Divine David returns with a free show to celebrate 25 years of the Transmission Gallery, and will also be appearing at Death Disco. Transmission Gallery, Fri 16 Oct.
Death Disco The monthly electro disco night celebrates Glasgay! with a sparkling line-up of DJs, bands and performance artists including Kissy Sell Out, Busy P, Crystal Fighters and James Yuill.Arches, Sat 17 Oct.
The Sunday Service Shimmering queen of the double entendre Jonathan Mayor hosts this special comedy night, which includes an appearance from stunning comedian/magician Magic Mandy Muden. The Stand, Sun 18 Oct.
Regina Award winning choreographer Tom Sapsford collaborates with computer artists KMA and designer Stevie Stewart to create an exciting new piece of dance theatre exploring the life of Elizabeth I. Tramway, Fri 23 & Sat 24 Oct.
Black Cab Glasgay’s first ever Black and Minority Ethnic cabaret presents the creative output of some of Scotland’s finest up and coming live entertainers. Arta, Thu 29 Oct.
Hair I AmPerformer and writer Helen Cuinn presents the latest, ahem, strand of her project exploring the topic of ginger hair, The Hair on My Head is Dead, developed in conjunction with Dance House and the CCA. CCA, Wed 4 & Thu 5 Nov.
Terry Neason: Torch Songs of Pleasure’n’Passion A late night line-up of torch songs from huge-voiced Glasgow girl Neason, including numbers made famous by the likes of Piaf, Brel, Gershwin and Garland. Tron Theatre, Fri 6 Nov.
Conversation piece - Dani Marti interview
Source: The List (Issue 640)
Date: 24 September 2009 (updated 5 October 2009)
Written by: Allan RadcliffeComments (0)Share this
Visual artist Dani Marti explores gay men’s health and sexuality in his work. But it’s his experience of finding a home for his most recent exhibition that has made him a political artist he tells Allan Radcliffe
Dani Marti’s new exhibition, Insideout, has been safely installed in the sh[OUT] Space at Parnie Street as part of Glasgay! Yet the convoluted tale of how one of the show’s installations ended up in this space still sticks in the craw of the Barcelona-born artist.
Insideout was developed out of Marti’s residency commissioned by the Gallery of Modern Art and Gay Men’s Health, exploring issues around gay men’s sexuality, intimacy and disclosure. Among the exhibits are sculptural works made from red PVC pot scourers, hand-sewn by volunteers from Mozambique whose lives have been affected by HIV. The works are suggestive of red blood cells, internal organs and orifices.
Also on display is a video and sound installation addressing the reality of living with the AIDS virus. Working with Gay Men’s Health, the artist, who is HIV positive, invited men of all ages to reflect on their experiences of intimacy and coming to terms with their sexuality. His research exposed certain recurring cultural attitudes.
‘I began to realise that there’s still a lot of stigma about HIV in Scotland, and also around coming out,’ he says. ‘For many of these men this was the first time they had been given permission to talk about their sexuality. Glasgow in particular, is very Calvinistic – you know, let’s not talk about emotions, let’s not talk about sexuality.’
The installation, ‘Disclosure’, was intended to feature as part of sh[OUT]: Contemporary Art and Human Rights, the social justice programme commissioned by the Gallery of Modern Art, which also included the controversial ‘Made in God’s Image’ installation, an open Bible with instructions to write in it, which offended certain religious organisations.
Marti’s own installation features seven people talking about their HIV status, including a video entitled ‘Time is the Fire’, which features a former male prostitute and porn actor discussing taking crystal meth and taking part in intense sexual acts, and another video, ‘Ausmusdad’, which features full frontal male nudity.
Email correspondence between the artist and representatives of Culture and Sport Glasgow, which runs GoMA, suggests Marti had been led to believe that his work would be shown in a Balcony Gallery at GoMA from 11 September. However, in July this year, following the controversy surrounding ‘Made in God’s Image’ CS Glasgow asked Marti to remove the most controversial videos in his installation in order ‘to reframe the debate’.
Marti believes that this was censorship on the part of a nervous council hierarchy. ‘The sh[OUT] programme was a platform commissioned by GoMA to overcome the stigma about sexuality,’ says Marti. ‘[Pornography] is not the point of my work: I’m interested in intimacy, emotions, relationships. It happens that the men featured in my work are HIV positive.
‘It was important that this work was shown at GoMA. It’s a great platform and we need to keep pushing dialogue. Now it’s going to be shown in a basement.’
Despite these recent experiences, Marti maintains that Glasgow is a great, active city in which to live and work, and that he is more determined that ever to get his message across.
‘I won’t compromise in my work at all … As an artist I have to take a stand.’
Dani Marti: Insideout, sh[OUT] Space, 14 Parnie Street, until Sat 10 Oct.
Best of the rest
Highlights from Scotland’s celebration of queer culture
Markus Makavellian’s International Order An hour in the company of glitter-painted New York performance poet Markus Makavellian, the alter ego of Glasgow-based writer and performer Drew Taylor. Arches, Wed 14 & Thu 15 Oct.
David Hoyle The performance artist formerly known as The Divine David returns with a free show to celebrate 25 years of the Transmission Gallery, and will also be appearing at Death Disco. Transmission Gallery, Fri 16 Oct.
Death Disco The monthly electro disco night celebrates Glasgay! with a sparkling line-up of DJs, bands and performance artists including Kissy Sell Out, Busy P, Crystal Fighters and James Yuill.Arches, Sat 17 Oct.
The Sunday Service Shimmering queen of the double entendre Jonathan Mayor hosts this special comedy night, which includes an appearance from stunning comedian/magician Magic Mandy Muden. The Stand, Sun 18 Oct.
Regina Award winning choreographer Tom Sapsford collaborates with computer artists KMA and designer Stevie Stewart to create an exciting new piece of dance theatre exploring the life of Elizabeth I. Tramway, Fri 23 & Sat 24 Oct.
Black Cab Glasgay’s first ever Black and Minority Ethnic cabaret presents the creative output of some of Scotland’s finest up and coming live entertainers. Arta, Thu 29 Oct.
Hair I AmPerformer and writer Helen Cuinn presents the latest, ahem, strand of her project exploring the topic of ginger hair, The Hair on My Head is Dead, developed in conjunction with Dance House and the CCA. CCA, Wed 4 & Thu 5 Nov.
Terry Neason: Torch Songs of Pleasure’n’Passion A late night line-up of torch songs from huge-voiced Glasgow girl Neason, including numbers made famous by the likes of Piaf, Brel, Gershwin and Garland. Tron Theatre, Fri 6 Nov.
Friday, 2 October 2009
Bursting with Pride
Bursting with Pride
Bursting with Pride
Posted by Lesley Dickson, Tue 29 Sep 2009
Glasgay! is controversial, dynamic and taboo-busting and this year's theatre line-up is no exception.
It has been branded cutting-edge, political and controversial. Certainly, even in its 16th year, Glasgay!, still has the radical energy that has made the festival worth talking about since its advent. Yet 2009 allows the festival to boast of its maturity. Initially attracting audiences from the LGBT community, Glasgay! is now defining itself as an epicenter for fearless social and political discourse reaching a wildly eclectic audience. And this year we’re talking Family and Femininity: ginger liberation, harridan mammies, transsexual deity, and some quintessential gender politics for good measure. A focus on the twin themes of Family and Feminine is typical of Glasgay’s fearless attempt to debunk stereotypes. Hot on the agenda this year is the question of what feminine actually means. Is femininity inner or outer strength? Can a profanity-spitting harlot be feminine? Is an indoctrinated female oppressed by a predatory male the definition of feminine? And will we remain nailed to the medieval damsel in distress scenario? Let’s hope not! The Feminine is a multi-dimensional notion and Steven Thompson and the Glasgay team are ready to give some vanguard depictions of every flavour of the feminine identity, as revealed in the wide range of performance styles and stories in the festival's theatrical programme.
The debate kicks off at the Theatre Royal with Matthew Bourne’s 21st Century androgynous depiction of Oscar Wilde’s Dorian Gray (2-3 Oct) bringing decadent dance to Glasgow. Visually scrumptious, this is a modern Ugly-Betty take on Wilde’s canon. Memory Cells at The Arches (20-24 Oct) is the darkest offering on the programme. Writer Louise Walsh plunges audiences into the misogynistic world of Barry as he preys on a woman locked in a chamber. It's a study of body abstraction "inspired by recent cases of young women being kidnapped and held captive by predatory men,” as Director Sam Rowe explains. The intensity of compressed violence revives the unimaginable horrors of cases such as Elizabeth Fritzel and Natascha Kampush. The question is: how much power does the oppressed have over the oppressor? Provocative stuff to say the very least.
Another female, another crisis, well a mid-life crisis. Maggie Kinloch‘s The Maw Broon Monologues (3-8 Nov) sees Scotland’s most notorious matriarch take to the Tron stage to delve deep into her past. A hilarious and sinister treat, Maw Broon meets Gordon Broon, reads Tolstoy and goes for colonic irrigation – let’s hope some things are left between the lines! On the family tip, Martin O’Connor returns to Glasgay with his first full length play, Playing Houses (13-17 Oct). Set in the gritty cavern of The Arches it displays pure Glasgow humour infused with gender conflict and identity struggles a la Pinter. O’Connor describes the play as an "exploration of those on the fringes of society" – a humorous dabble in social realism but with a modern Big Brother twist. O’Connor is quickly becoming one to watch and Playing Houses is set to be a sure-fire hits of Glasgay 2009.
Ginge, Ginger Nut, Carrot Heed, Fire Balls – sound familiar? Hair I Am (4-5 Nov) forms part of the festival's boutique programme at the CCA. Following on from her show The Hair on my Head is Dead we’ve got to ask: what is it with writer/performer Helen Quinn and her hair? "Well now!" retorts the zealous recipient of the Arts Trust Scotland Funding, "Ah’ve actually got a bee in ma bunnet aboot that!" Quinn doesn’t want public hanging of barnet bigots, but she’s damn sure she’s unearthing the attitudes to red hair on stage. Exploring the roots of anti-ginger, this play ruptures our deep-rooted prejudices, Quinn states: "I see the theme of ginger hair and its treatment in Scotland as a metaphor for how we deal with difference."
And there’s more. Lots more in fact. Bette/Cavett (6-10 Oct) at the Tron is directed by Alan Bennett of Glasgay’s 06/07 hit Talking Heads. At the same venue, A Child Made of Love (20-24 Oct) explores the issue of paternal longing, followed by Jesus Queen of Heaven (3-7 Nov) which asks, what if God were a transsexual woman on a mission to promote sexual egalitarianism? At the King’s Theatre we see Roxy Hart razzle dazzle us in Chicago (5-10 Oct), while over at the Tramway Queen Elizabeth I visits Glasgow in Regina (23-24 Oct), a multi-media dance extravanganza. Glasgay 2009 promises to be a thought-provoking expose of cliché and a meticulous vivisection of social norms. And there’s something for everyone. Weep, laugh and ponder. Let the exploration begin!
Bursting with Pride
Posted by Lesley Dickson, Tue 29 Sep 2009
Glasgay! is controversial, dynamic and taboo-busting and this year's theatre line-up is no exception.
It has been branded cutting-edge, political and controversial. Certainly, even in its 16th year, Glasgay!, still has the radical energy that has made the festival worth talking about since its advent. Yet 2009 allows the festival to boast of its maturity. Initially attracting audiences from the LGBT community, Glasgay! is now defining itself as an epicenter for fearless social and political discourse reaching a wildly eclectic audience. And this year we’re talking Family and Femininity: ginger liberation, harridan mammies, transsexual deity, and some quintessential gender politics for good measure. A focus on the twin themes of Family and Feminine is typical of Glasgay’s fearless attempt to debunk stereotypes. Hot on the agenda this year is the question of what feminine actually means. Is femininity inner or outer strength? Can a profanity-spitting harlot be feminine? Is an indoctrinated female oppressed by a predatory male the definition of feminine? And will we remain nailed to the medieval damsel in distress scenario? Let’s hope not! The Feminine is a multi-dimensional notion and Steven Thompson and the Glasgay team are ready to give some vanguard depictions of every flavour of the feminine identity, as revealed in the wide range of performance styles and stories in the festival's theatrical programme.
The debate kicks off at the Theatre Royal with Matthew Bourne’s 21st Century androgynous depiction of Oscar Wilde’s Dorian Gray (2-3 Oct) bringing decadent dance to Glasgow. Visually scrumptious, this is a modern Ugly-Betty take on Wilde’s canon. Memory Cells at The Arches (20-24 Oct) is the darkest offering on the programme. Writer Louise Walsh plunges audiences into the misogynistic world of Barry as he preys on a woman locked in a chamber. It's a study of body abstraction "inspired by recent cases of young women being kidnapped and held captive by predatory men,” as Director Sam Rowe explains. The intensity of compressed violence revives the unimaginable horrors of cases such as Elizabeth Fritzel and Natascha Kampush. The question is: how much power does the oppressed have over the oppressor? Provocative stuff to say the very least.
Another female, another crisis, well a mid-life crisis. Maggie Kinloch‘s The Maw Broon Monologues (3-8 Nov) sees Scotland’s most notorious matriarch take to the Tron stage to delve deep into her past. A hilarious and sinister treat, Maw Broon meets Gordon Broon, reads Tolstoy and goes for colonic irrigation – let’s hope some things are left between the lines! On the family tip, Martin O’Connor returns to Glasgay with his first full length play, Playing Houses (13-17 Oct). Set in the gritty cavern of The Arches it displays pure Glasgow humour infused with gender conflict and identity struggles a la Pinter. O’Connor describes the play as an "exploration of those on the fringes of society" – a humorous dabble in social realism but with a modern Big Brother twist. O’Connor is quickly becoming one to watch and Playing Houses is set to be a sure-fire hits of Glasgay 2009.
Ginge, Ginger Nut, Carrot Heed, Fire Balls – sound familiar? Hair I Am (4-5 Nov) forms part of the festival's boutique programme at the CCA. Following on from her show The Hair on my Head is Dead we’ve got to ask: what is it with writer/performer Helen Quinn and her hair? "Well now!" retorts the zealous recipient of the Arts Trust Scotland Funding, "Ah’ve actually got a bee in ma bunnet aboot that!" Quinn doesn’t want public hanging of barnet bigots, but she’s damn sure she’s unearthing the attitudes to red hair on stage. Exploring the roots of anti-ginger, this play ruptures our deep-rooted prejudices, Quinn states: "I see the theme of ginger hair and its treatment in Scotland as a metaphor for how we deal with difference."
And there’s more. Lots more in fact. Bette/Cavett (6-10 Oct) at the Tron is directed by Alan Bennett of Glasgay’s 06/07 hit Talking Heads. At the same venue, A Child Made of Love (20-24 Oct) explores the issue of paternal longing, followed by Jesus Queen of Heaven (3-7 Nov) which asks, what if God were a transsexual woman on a mission to promote sexual egalitarianism? At the King’s Theatre we see Roxy Hart razzle dazzle us in Chicago (5-10 Oct), while over at the Tramway Queen Elizabeth I visits Glasgow in Regina (23-24 Oct), a multi-media dance extravanganza. Glasgay 2009 promises to be a thought-provoking expose of cliché and a meticulous vivisection of social norms. And there’s something for everyone. Weep, laugh and ponder. Let the exploration begin!
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